Black Hearted
by hellenisticbeast
Summary: "Harry, here's the thing: You're godfather, he's my father…I'm sure of it."
1. Chapter 1

George had somehow lost track of Fred and Ginny. Though the trees he could still hear the screams and shouts from the camp ground. The forest was dark, but he'd left his wand behind in the hurry to get out of the tent.

"Oof!"

"Damn. Sorry." The legs he had tripped over withdrew, and a light illuminate the surroundings. A girl sat with her back against the tree, green globe of light hovering in her palm. A loosely woven lavender braid hung over a practically bare shoulder. She gave him a quick once over, the kind of look that girls gave everyone.

"Why're you walking around without a light?" her accent was off, slightly nasal, with an odd way of smashing together words.

"Are you American?"

"Yeah."

"Salem Witches' Institute?"

"Yeah."

"You shouldn't be out here alone."

She tilted up her chin. "I almost guarantee you I'm far more capable of protecting myself than you are." Her movement had caused a lock of hair to fall away, revealing a slightly pointed ear; George instantly understood.

"Oh. My mum's told me stories about people like you."

"What d'you mean 'people like me?'"

"Fairy."

She smiled good naturedly. "Well, I don't know what your mother's told you, but don't worry, I'm only half-Fairy, won't steal your firstborn or anything. I'm Cerles, by the way."

"George. Listen, I don't suppose you've seen my twin come this way? Bout yea tall, red hair, freckles, bit of an ugly bloke."

She laughed. "No. You loose him?"

"Yeah."

"Well you might as well give up, no ones going to find anyone else in this mess. I gave up a while- Shh!" The light was suddenly extinguished as footsteps were heard.

"Cerles? Cerles if you can hear me, Ms Fink is getting hella pissed!"

"Look, man, she's not over here. She's probably at the camp ground causing trouble."

As the footsteps faded the light reappeared, illuminating the distasteful look on Cerles' face. "Okay, so I didn't give up. I'm hiding. Don't even know why I came on this stupid trip…" She trailed off, more talking to herself than George. "Sorry. Anyway, good luck finding your brother."

"Yeah, thanks. Good luck hiding."

"Wait, you dropped your wand." But as she handed him the wand from off the leaves it turned into a rubber chicken, causing her to give a shriek that dissolved into laughter. "Did you make that? That's brilliant!"

"Really, you think so? Trick wands. Fred and I are trying to market them. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

"That's fantastic." She chucked the chicken at him, smiling. "Makes a good icebreaker." An explosion sounded from the camp ground, causing them both to jump a little. "Wanna sit and wait it out? I could use some interesting company."

Fred and Ginny tugged at the back of his mind, but he shrugged. There was something alluring about this girl. "Sure, why not?"

Her face reddened. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to compel you. I'm glad for the company but-...well...stay, but only if you want to." she was bumbling, looking quite distressed.

"Er, no. I want to."

They were two very different people on the surface (American/British, only mother/large family) but conversation flowed easily between them, flowing from one topic to the next. If someone else had stumbled upon them, the pairs body language would not have communicated new acquaintance but comfortable friends.

George stretched and stood. "I should be getting back."

"Yeah, me too." She handed back the jacket that had at some point ended up around her shoulders. "It was nice to meet you, hopefully I'll see you soon."

"Yeah, hopefully."

But she had all ready disappeared into the trees with a smile.

"Soon" turned out to be sooner than George expected.

* * *

Music blared from the Weird Sisters stage, and all around was a moving and shifting mass of people. He and Katy Bell were laughing, dancing like idiots; everyone was. Then, instantly, everything was pitch black, silent. In the moment before a confused murmur began, a voice rang out.

"What the- who turn out the lights? Oh, wait a second: I did."

All at once the room blared back into life. Colored balls floated just above the crowd and provided a light show worthy of a rave, and a new band had replaced the Weird Sisters on stage. In the centre of it all stood a girl with neon green hair.

"Holy shit. I know her." George grabbed his brother's arm. "Remember that girl I told you I met this summer?" Fred just shrugged and motioned the fact that he couldn't hear over the sound.

Cerles's voice was silk over nails, enchanting, but at the same time harsh. It quickly charmed the crowd out of their confusion and back into the ceaseless movement. Her hands pounded effortlessly at a keyboard, seeming outside her realm of concentration.

The song ended and she stepped back, breathing hard. A bottle of water sat at her feet and she took a swig before swearing.

"That-" she said into the microphone, "is most definitely not water. " and proceeded to drink some more. Everyone gave a cheering laugh.

They sang maybe five songs, the bland looking boy with the guitar singing most of them with Cerles chiming in, but the fastest, loudest she sang on her own. Then there was the slow song, where she closed her eyes and abandoned the keyboard to lean in close to the mic. Her voice was a little gravelly from yelling, but when it was done, the lights brightened and she straightened up.

When she spoke, her voice was calm, a little bit sad. "Thanks guys, for putting up with us. We don't really have a name, but we're honored you let us play for you." She smiled. "Now, we'll let you're real entertainment come back!"

It blackened again for an instant, and when the lights reappeared so did the slightly baffled Weird Sisters.

"Hey, George."

He jumped. Cerles was standing at his shoulder, a little anxious. Bits of hair stuck to her face with sweat, and her eyeliner was smudged.

"Hey! That was amazing!"

"Thanks. I'm glad to see you, I thought you might be here." Her voice gave out on the last bit and she smiled wryly. "Sorry. I overdid it a little."

He glanced over to see Katy dancing with a boy from Durmstrang. "D'you want something to drink?"

"Yes, that'd be great."

They ended up outside, lounging on a bench.

"Where'd your two bandmates go?"

"Smoking pot somewhere in Hogsmeade, waiting for me." She stretched her legs out in front of her, slouching. "So, what's it like going to school here? It's fuckin' huge."

George's gaze shifted -almost unconsciously- from her combat boots to where the hem of her dress had ridden up to reveal the tops of her black thigh-highs "Nah, it's not so bad. Lots of places to explore."

"Lots of secrets to find?"

"Exactly." He returned her shy smile confidently.

"How's the joke business going then?"

"We're still trying to get it off the ground, lack of funds and all."

"I feel ya. We've been trying to book gigs over the holidays, but it's been hard."

They chatted for a while, watching her small counterparts twinkle in the bushes. After fifteen minutes, Cerles's voice faltered and stayed near silent.

"I should go," she whispered. "I've been sick, and singing didn't help." To George's surprise, she gave him a quick hug. "See ya."

And just like that, she flitted out of his life again.

But once again, it wasn't for very long.


	2. Chapter 2

Cerles Grey -much to the dismay of her late mother- was perpetually late, and this was no exception. She ran up the path to the castle gate, old-fashioned grip bumping her legs, speed hindered by her smart, lace-up boots.

"Fucking hell!" (Her mother's voice, chastising her for swearing, echoed in her head.)she skidded to a stop at the sight of the large padlock on the gate. From her boot she produced a wand: Red oak, thirteen and five-eighths inches, core comprising of fairy hair. Out of the tip came a steam of silver that gradually formed into a raccoon-like creature on it's journey to the palace.

Cerles sighed and leaned against the gate, waiting. It could not be said that she was anything other than beautiful: her face was slim and pale, with large silver eyes staring out. Her hair was the most unusual feature, with even her eyebrows colored cerulean blue. She was shorter than the average fifteen year old, and possessing a twig-thinness, not having yet filled out.

A mew drew her eyes downward: by her feet settled a pitch black cat with startling blue eyes. "Oh, hello Pond. I'm glad you made it all right."

Another cat was making its way down from the castle in a streak of silver. As Cerles watched it wound around the lock.

"You're late." The stern voice emanated from its mouth, causing the girl to jump and continue her run, this time with Pond at her heels.

It was a looming structure: grim and gothic, with light emanating like a weak aurora from the windows. The iron warmed her hand unpleasantly as she grabbed the ring on the towering oak door and pulled.

The temperature inside was colder than out.

She'd hardly had a moment to glance around - large doors, large marble staircase, was everything on such a scale?- when the same voice echoed across the empty hall.

"Come on, come on!" The woman's face was wrinkled, but spoke of pride and past beauty. She was older, but didn't hold herself like it, wearing rich green robes. "You can leave your bag there. Why isn't your cat in a crate?" Her rapid fire way of speaking made Cerles' head spin.

"He'll be fine. Who are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Professor McGonagall. I am correct in assuming you are Miss Grey, am I not?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Well then, go into the Great Hall, I'll be joining you shortly to begin the sorting ceremony." She disappeared into a (thankfully normal sized) door. Cerles took a moment to compose herself - smoothing her hair, adjusting her knee-length skirt - before opening the door that stretched towards the ceiling.

It was one of the most beautiful rooms she had ever seen outside of the Fairy Courts, star studded ceiling arching over head like something in an ethereal cathedral. There were four long tables, each with less than a hundred students in black robes, and another clump stood in the middle, younger than the rest. Candles floated just above head level, illuminating the scene.

A wall of sound hit her, though it began to disintegrate as people took notice. Whispers flew around.

"Who is she?"

"What's with her hair?"

"It's the girl who sang at the Yule Ball!"

"…Alice White's daughter, stupid slut."

She bit the inside of her cheek -hard- and continued walking, head held high. Reaching the group of kids, she halted, shifting awkwardly. The man in the centre of the table who she recognized as Professor Dumbledore caught her eye and winked. She gave the best approximation of a smile she could as Professor McGonagall entered the room with a raggedy hat and stool. She set the stool in front of the high table and the hat on top before stepping back. The hat began to sing.

Cerles listened with interest to the song, grateful for any hints to this strange stool. The hall burst into applause when it was through, backed by a hint of apprehension.

Professor McGonagall unrolled a scroll. "When I call out your name," she said in a loud, clear voice, "you'll come put on the hat, which will sort you into one of four houses: Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Slytherin, or Gryffindor who you will stay with for your time at Hogwarts.

"We will begin. Grey, Cerles."

Steady against the murmurs, she nudged her way through the crowd of new students and sat down, staring defiantly out at the crowd. A friendly face caught her eye and waved, prompting an actual smile. Then, the hat dropped onto her head.

_Ah, an older mind than I normally see, more closed off. _The voice in her ear made her flinch. _Alice White hmm? Very notorious…and the father? No, not there? Very brave girl, but the words on her arms are scared. Loyal enough for Hufflepuff, but too harsh. Ravenclaw would welcome your brains, but you'd rather have some fun…hmmm…_

Dumbledore leaned forward, hands steepled, to watch the first sorting of the year. He knew where he wanted her: the same place that her father - if he'd known of her existence - would have hoped she go.

_I just want somewhere I can fit in,_ she begged. _Somewhere I can excel. _

_Such a desire for greatness, for acknowledgement. Better be… _

"SLYTHERIN." 

The moment the hat was lifted from her head, Cerles made for the table that was cheering as quickly as she could while still managing dignity; she didn't noticed the smile dropping off George's face, or the way Dumbledore sat back, eyes lacking a twinkle. The sorting continued in it's typical, alphabetical way.

"You can sit here." A bespectacled girl scooted over to make room for Cerles.

"Thanks."

"I'm Sally Perks. You're in our year, I think. Fifth, right?"

"Um, I think so. I'm not actually too sure of how everything works around here." She glanced up at the other faces around her and smiled. "I'm Cerles Grey."

She tried to commit face-name relationships to mind.

"Draco Malfoy." Thin-faced blond boy.

"Pansy Parkinson." Girl with not unpleasant features and dark hair.

"Crabbe." Grunter.

"Goyle." Another Grunter.

"Daphne Greengrass." Blonde.

"Tracey Davis." Chestnut colored hair.

"Millicent Bulstrode." A tad overweight.

"It's nice to meet you all." The uncertain situation had caused her to turn the charm on high, for there is nothing worse than being disliked at a school from which you cannot leave.

"So your American? From Salem Witches Institute?" Pansy asked. "What's it like?"

"Well, it's not very organized. We stay at home or on campus during the week, but everyone has to go home during the weekend. We're all encouraged to experiment with things and discover magic on our own, so there's maybe four hours of very intensive charms and transfiguration a day, then we disperse to electives - art, music, magical creatures, math, and so forth depending on what branch you're in - or we go to the labs to work on things."

"Sounds chaotic," Tracey said at the same moment that Pansy asked:

"Branches? What are those?"

"Specialties. There's general studies, invention, natural studies, languages, anything you could want, really. I was in natural studies, so I took extra charms, transfiguration, magical creatures, herbology and some bio and chem."

"You took Muggle sciences?"

"Muggle?"

"Non-magic." The group exchanged dubious looks.

"Well, yeah. You have to know how to world works on a basic level to add magic into things. You have normal plant cells verses magic plant cells, normal ions verses magic ions et cetera."

"You weren't on the train, were you?"

"No, my plane was late…"

The interrogation continued, all good natured and curious questions that are directed towards new students in any school in any country, the only difference was that Cerles was one of the few transfer students in Hogwarts history.

The most disconcerting bit of the evening occurred when an older woman dressed like a toddler interrupted Dumbledore and made it very clear that the government would be interfering in schools in what seemed a Texas-textbook style scandal. She tilted her head, listening; the woman was instantly untrustworthy with a condescending "I'm-better-than-you-but-let's-get-along-white-man 's-burden" attitude.

After a few hours, they all stood and headed for the door, Cerles hanging next to Daphne Greengrass - a strong featured girl with light blonde hair. She was a little bland in personality, seeming apathetic to everything around her.

"Yeah, just one sec," Cerles said, interrupting their conversation about class structure; she'd spotted a pair of red heads moving to the doors from the other side of the hall. "Hey, George!" She slipped between a group of Ravenclaws and put a hand on shoulder. The boy that turned around was not George, just very similar, with a slightly longer face and a nose that had been broken less times.

"Oh, hello. You must be-"

"Fred, yeah. You're Cerles." he was acting cooly. She pushed past him and grabbed George's arm, pulling him away from the black boy he was chatting with.

"George."

"Hey Cerles, how are you? Why are you here?" He was acting strangely as well, a bit too bright.

"Um, there was an accident and my mom died, so I couldn't stay at SWI because you have to go home on the weekends there, but the principal there talked to Professor Dumbledore and arranged for me to stay here over the vacations until I graduate."

"Oh, wow. I'm really sorry."

"Yeah, ya know it's just one of those things." She grimaced. "I'd better go try and find people who know where I'm going, but I'll see you around!" She wormed her way back to where Daphne, Pansy, and Draco were heading towards a small door.

"Why were you talking to Weasley?" Draco asked, voice full of scorn. "You're not friends with him, are you?"

"Actually I am." Her tone closed the issue.


End file.
